


Ignite the DarK

by magic



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Angry Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:00:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magic/pseuds/magic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yata has him pinned, and Fushimi thinks, <i>what a damn near beautiful death wish you are</i>. He smiles even as he chokes, the lack of air getting to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ignite the DarK

Yata kisses exactly like he does everything else.

He'd think it was too much if he hadn't experienced it before. That painful way that Yata has of acting without anything ever holding him back from something he really wants. Once he believes in something it's impossible for it to be ever let go of, and Fushimi's tried. He's tried talking sense into him before he ended up in a bad spot, or even held on to the ridiculous notion that maybe this time would be different for Yata. Maybe this time the boy wouldn't give his everything so fucking easily, but it's never happened. Not even once. 

He's thankful that somehow, he's still one of those things that Yata won't let go of. Even if it's for completely different reasons than before.

"Tell me," Fushimi breathes out, and he can taste the copper on his lips from where Yata's bitten him. He has the other boy flush against the floor, one wrist pinned, while his other hand is dangerously close to pulling Fushimi's hair out. He can see the way Yata's looking at him, angry like he always gets, and yet it's even more than that. 

Fushimi wonders, with how furious the boy is, if Yata realizes that the fact he could be pushed off easily. Or that if he moved his hands right, the glasses wouldn't protect him from his eyes being gouged out. And he wouldn't put it past Yata, he doesn't think so little of him. 

"Why you hate me." He repeats, " _tell me_ , Misaki." He leans down, his tongue flicking across the corner of Yata's lips where the skin's broken there, too. 

"Don't you fucking say my name, you bastard," Yata spits out without hesitation as he moves his lips to meet Fushimi's in a clash. He can't help but smile, because things never would be halfway for them. 

They're bloodied and bruised and Fushimi finally feels alive. Like everything else is a dream and this is the only thing that's true. And in a way, it is; the blood already singing in his veins and the way that just moments before they'd been moving with intent to kill. Or rather, it'd been Yata that'd wanted to kill him, and Fushimi had moved without thought because he knew it was what the other boy would've wanted. Just like Yata gives everything, to Homura, to beliving in fucking Mikoto, to every primal desire he has - but somehow it doesn't really matter whether something's right or wrong, because Fushimi can look into those intense brown eyes and if he isn't careful, he'll get swept away too. 

It's then when he feels the hand that had been yanking the hair at his nape of his neck on his stomach. Yata's pulled up his stupid fucking shirt that Fushimi hates anyway and for a second and with an inhale of breath as skin meets skin, he loses control of everything. It only takes that one moment for Yata to push him, hard, enough to flip him over onto the concrete of where they were. For the four inches difference they have in height, Yata makes up for it in his enthusiasm and Fushimi would laugh at the thought, if he hadn't almost lost conciousness when his head had directly hit the ground. 

"Fucking shut up," Yata says, and it's different than before. Maybe because he's straddling the other boy, or that he has control of the situation now, his forearm is pushed up against Fushimi's wind pipe as he leans down, his face dangerously close. This is the way Yata gets when he's honestly angry, when he isn't showing off for someone or putting on a grin. Fushimi can practically feel the fire on his skin even though they'd used up all of their aura's energy in the scuffle just before. 

Yata has him pinned, and Fushimi thinks, _what a damn near beautiful death wish you are_. He smiles even as he chokes, the lack of air getting to him. 

This is what he's wanted. He wants this because he finally feels something, the sting of being brought back to reality in the only way that Fushimi knows how. It's with Yata and that's enough, because it always has been. Since the moment that Mikoto remarked, "you two must be close," at their insignias both being in identical spots, just near their hearts. Since before then, when Yata had almost murdered someone with his bare hands for purposely bumping into Fushimi and demanding that he apologize as the two of them were walking. Since he'd realized that Yata made everything worth _living_ , instead of just bearing. He still sees that in Yata's eyes above him as he thinks, _you should be the one to kill me_ , as he blacks out.

When he comes back to, it's with a surge of pain he realizes just how beat up his body is. Every muscle is sore and straining and his uniform's worse by far, but he can breathe again. Fushimi tries to not think of it as a disappointment. He still has something to do, after all. something that's worth having Yata hate him this much, even if it's for his own good. One of his hands grasp Yata's midsection, his eyes as unfocused as they are without his perscription as he looks at the other boy, whose face is no longer as passive as before when he shows just the edges of a smile, merciless. 

"I know you won't die so easily, you traitor." There's a lilt to his voice, as his fingers trail along Fushimi's neck and sending trickles of pain. It's going to definitely bruise. 

"You were one of us, after all." When he says it, his fingers have moved to the scar that's on Fushimi's chest, his shirt already undone. He isn't hurting the mark, exactly. But everywhere his fingers touch burns, just like the bright red skin there does whenever he thinks about Yata. Fushimi's able to struggle, the one arm that's being pinned down moving to shove Yata away, the other that's around the boy pulling him closer at the same time. Yata must be as beaten up as he is with his change in speed, but Fushimi knows he's working on pure adrenaline, anyway. 

Yata sits up, and puts most of his weight to his hand, which is heavy against Fushimi's breast bone. " _Listen up_ , asshole," he says. Fushimi can hear shouting somewhere off in the distance but other than that, he's just looking up at those eyes. He's dead serious, lip broken and the skin on his cheek already bruising an ugly color as he looks down at Fushimi, like there's nothing else in the world. Fushimi's actually glad, he accepted that a long time ago. There might be kings that move them around like pieces on a board without much care, a million and one things going on at once but in the end, it's just the two of them. Even if they'll be each other's end. 

"Yeah?" Fushimi chokes out, his voice hoarse and throat still burning from the way it'd been wrung. 

There are so many things that should be happening right now, but when Yata presses the heel of his hand down harder Fushimi just lets out a gasp of air as his hips buck up against Yata's, feeling the othe boy's move right back to him. 

His fingers digging into Fushimi's skin, Yata hisses before he says, "you're mine, Saru." 

Whether or not Yata's talking about their current engagement and how fist fighting ended up with them both on the ground, and himself on top, or the fact that Fushimi has always been his and Yata knows it, he isn't sure. But Fushimi does grab a hold of Yata's shirt, pulling himself off the ground, as their lips meet together again, still as painful as it was before. They're actually kissing this time, lips moving against one another as their hips rut against each other without abandon. 

They've lost almost everything they've had together, but they still have this.

**Author's Note:**

> I might write more once we actually have more material to work with, since we don't know much about their background yet. This was mostly written with what I hope their relationship will be, Fushimi being mostly crazy and Yata being exactly the same. Also, his first name is Saruhiko but here Yata calls him Saru, his own nickname, meaning "monkey" in Japanese. Kuddos and/or comments appreciated!


End file.
